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Emptyland - 02 - The Big Emptiness
The day before the Big Emptiness - as I like to call it... yes, I know, again, not really original, but you get the feeling, don't you? At least, I do, which is the most important now - so, the day before it all happened, was my birthday. Yay!
I had this huge party, all evening and night long. Lots and lots of friends.
Happiness.
Fun.
Love.
All that.
And now, I feel like I'm standing in this station, where thousands of people used to run around every day, to catch a train, a metro, or to get back to the surface. Back to open sky. Back to the “overground” life.
Actually, I don't just feel like it, as you must have guessed.
I am standing in the middle of those tunnels, all by myself.
And when I focus really hard... like that... see? ... well, when I do that, my mind finds a way to imagine the echoes of the noise all the people used to make, while passing here. Footsteps mostly. Voices. Laughs. Some cries. The singing homeless guy. The automatic doors. Clicks and claps, and lalalas.
But it's just my mind, trying to cover the Big Emptiness. The one inside me.

Read the Emptyland stories.

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Emptyland - 01 - Cliché
Yeah, ok, what a cliché, what a overused idea, come one, you wake up one morning and suddenly, everybody has disappeared ?
Can't find anything more original ?
Actually, I would, if this wasn't happening.
And, in fact, to be totally honest, I didn't wake up one morning, finding myself all alone.
I was sitting in the metro when it happened. And it was evening. Around 8 pm something.
I was sitting in this all automatic metro line, facing the tunnel. Front row. Everybody else behind me.
As I stood up to get out at the station, that's when I noticed the tube was empty. All passengers must have left on the stations before, I guessed. Also this was still kinda weird.
Empty tube.
Empty dock.
Empty station as it appeared to be.
I haven't seen anyone since.
So, hey, call this "cliché" if you want. Who cares ?
Actually, you know what, shut the fuck up! You're not even here. And I don't want to start losing it, talking to myself, as if you were.

Read the Emptyland stories.

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The Last Rider
Little Cassy's on the playground
All by herself
Swaying back and forth
Fast
As fast as she can
And even faster
Faster
Faster
As the end of the world is approaching
Looking like a
Giant
Red
Dazzling
Eraser
But how fast do you have to ride
Your eyes strongly closed
Being the last living soul
On the last playground
Of a soon to be obliterated world
To cheat annihilation
And oblivion
And be home on time
For a last glass of cold milk ?

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For ages, the tree had watched the clouds fly by
One evening, at dusk, as he was sitting in his garden, in front of the house, Pietr complained to his wife:
"- That tree is bothering me.
- Why is that? asked Olga
- I can't see the clouds, because of him."
The next day, he cut down the tree.
That evening, at dusk, as he sat in his garden, in front of the house, Olga asked her husband:
"- Are you happy now?
- No, answered Pietr.
- Why not?
- Those are not the same clouds as yesterday."

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(With Herb, the stories are inside the pictures. What can I do? The man has his own way of telling things... and you don't wanna mess with him!)

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Have a look at my portfolio - 0% little crazy stories certified : philippe leroyer